


In the Dark with You

by roughlycut



Series: couple stuck in quarantine [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Jazz - Freeform, Love, M/M, Mild Angst, Pancakes, Stuck in quarantine, siebren is a broken man but he is doing his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roughlycut/pseuds/roughlycut
Summary: Siebren and Reinhardt are stuck in quarantine and Siebren doesn't handle it very well.
Relationships: Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reinhardt Wilhelm
Series: couple stuck in quarantine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694974
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	In the Dark with You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thereweregiants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereweregiants/gifts).



> There are no direct mentions of virus in this fic.
> 
> _________
> 
> Asked people on twitter to suggest me some pairings for a couple-stuck-in-quarantine scenario. This is the first one. Hopefully I can write more.
> 
> Title from a track by Skip Peck.
> 
> A big thank you to giants for the suggested pairing, and to crook for helping me out by suggesting an ending that wouldn't require 1k of extra words.

Siebren did a lot of pacing. Reinhardt had learned this early on in their relationship. There were different kinds of course. The excited pacing, always with an abrupt end, reserved for those on-the-cusp-of-a-new-discovery situations. The tired kind, usually a late night occurrence when a problem was still unsolved, becoming ever slower until Siebren sank into a chair with and exhausted sigh. And the exploring kind, taking place in early mornings, and always going between the big window in his study to the big blackboard on the back wall.

But lately Reinhardt had seen another kind of pacing. This one seemed to spring from Siebren realising the harsh reality of the current world, new ideas thought up over breakfast, quickly forgotten. Siebren’s face becoming tight, wrinkles and lines suddenly more visible. All it took was a glance at a newspaper headline, an idea for something to be added to the grocery list, a call from a colleague. The new kind of pacing was obsessive in a way, because it was unchanged in pace and pattern once it started. There was no break-off to scribble down notes, no reaction from Siebren if their cat tried to get his attention, throwing herself down at his feet. It was like he wasn’t even there, eyes unfocused and vacant, reminding Reinhardt how bad things had been when he first met Siebren all those years ago.

Today was particularly bad, Siebren had started before Reinhardt was even really awake, coffee and half eaten breakfast left behind on the dining table.

Siebren had closed the door, something that was also new, and Reinhardt wasn’t sure if he actually believed that he could carry on unnoticed. Wasn’t sure if Siebren actually knew he had closed the door. However he did know he would have to interrupt this, before it got worse. Before Siebren got worse and disappeared into his own darkness. He would, Reinhardt knew this. Siebren would let it swallow him up, drag him down, let it keep him there.

He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t.

~

Siebren wasn’t sure what time it was. It hadn’t mattered for a long time and it seemed an enormous effort to try and make it matter again.

His study was mostly dark, curtains only pulled open a little, letting a strip of midday sun slip in. It seemed like an inversion, the light spreading over his floor, his desk, his notes. Making him aware of its existence. Aware of his  _ own _ existence. Aware of —

Aware of the music playing somewhere in the house. His house.

It was some kind of jazz, a lazy rhythm on piano, muffled by the closed door. It pulled at him, the dark corners of his brain. He wanted to ignore it, go back to the things he had been thinking about, the plans he was making, the ideas. They were  — they had been so tangible, but now they were slipping from his grasp, like word turning into smoke before his very eyes.

Siebren grabbed a piece of paper, knocking over an empty coffee cup in the process. His fingers searched blindly for a pen as he stared at the blank page, feeling out of breath as he realised: His ideas had been nothing. Just darkness trying to make itself seem like something, anything to keep him there. To keep him under.

_ Just like old times _ , a voice in the back of his mind whispered.

He flung the door open without even realising, the thick notes of a saxophone more clear now, but still far away. The living room was bright, the sun shining in through the big windows, reflecting on every smooth surface.

A scent of something warm and sweet hit his nose, drawing him out of his study completely. He moved forward slowly, finding his way to the kitchen. The music was louder there, the tune now shifted to something more like a bossa nova. Reinhardt was humming along, pouring thick pancake batter into a pan, making it sizzle in the frying butter.

For a long time Siebren just stood there in the doorway, listening, watching. Reinhardt knew he was there, even if he didn’t say anything. Siebren could tell by the way he held his body, careful not to turn around and look at Siebren, like he was afraid he would scare him off. He couldn’t blame him really. He’d always been skittish.

It felt like an eternity passed before Reinhardt broke the silence, a pause between two jazz numbers obviously making it seem too awkward for him not to say anything.

“I think we need to talk Siebren,” he said as he turned around to look at him, his eyes full of fondness, “about how to keep you from slipping away when things get bad, yes?”

Siebren nodded, shame and relief coiling in his stomach.

“Yes, I think we do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written any fic for a very very long time, so please be kind to me <3


End file.
